


i think i’ve seen this film before (and i didn’t like the ending)

by melonlordnation



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: AU: After the war, Angst, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Engagement, F/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Surprise Ending, They're In Love Your Honor, Toph Beifong & Zuko Friendship, Zutara Drabble December 2020, someone get katara a tissue, someone get the fire lord more whiskey, they're gonna need it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27859234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonlordnation/pseuds/melonlordnation
Summary: After years of badgering from anyone and everyone — because when you’re a public figure hardly anything about your life is private, especially your relationship status — he’d caved in. Not really caved in, because he’d known since they were much younger that this day would come, but the time was finally right.He was going to propose to Katara.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	i think i’ve seen this film before (and i didn’t like the ending)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Once Around the Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3257693) by [eleventy7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleventy7/pseuds/eleventy7). 



> I’m in my ZK feels because I finally read Once Around The Sun by eleventy7 and if you have not read it yet, you absolutely should. At the same time, Taylor Swift’s folklore album was MADE for these two. Angsty Zutara it is.

Ember Island buzzed with secretive excitement. Even the waves crashing against the shore seemed giddy, pulling in grains of sand to whisper what was coming, then depositing them back on the shore or carrying them out to sea to spread the good news even farther.

The secret was miraculously still under wraps. Sokka had gone to a market and let it slip to a shopkeeper or two, and it spread across the towns like a wildfire from there. Of course the guests of the royal home knew what was to come, had known for weeks by the time they arrived — all but one of them.

_He was going to propose to Katara._

After years of badgering from anyone and everyone — because when you’re a public figure hardly anything about your life is private, especially your relationship status — he’d caved in. Not really caved in, because he’d known since they were much younger that this day would come, but the time was finally right. 

_He was going to propose to Katara._

Sokka and Hakoda had taken it surprisingly well, insisting _we trust you to take care of her, we respect you and expect you to continue to respect her, you’ve become like part of the family over these past few years, we’re ready to officially welcome you in_. They helped pick out the perfect ribbon and chunk of ivory from which Katara’s necklace would be carved. It had to be perfect if it was ever going to replace Kya’s jewelry around her neck, where it had stayed for over ten years with almost no interruption.

Zuko stared at the horizon over the back porch railing, sipping his fire whiskey carefully. It wouldn’t be proper for the Fire Lord to be heavily intoxicated in public, nor in the privacy of his family’s home, not tonight. Still, he knew he’d need liquid assistance to make it through the evening. It was already helping him process the quick progression of the past few weeks.

Heavy footsteps attached to a light body came up behind him. He knew who they belonged to without looking. She leaned onto the railing next to him, allowing him a few more moments to collect his thoughts.

“Zuko,” Toph finally said, “it’s time.”

_He was going to propose to Katara. Now._

Zuko downed the rest of his glass and sat it on the railing with a shaking hand; either he or a servant would come back for it later. 

If Toph sensed his nerves, she didn’t say anything about it. He knew they'd find time to talk later, spurred on by more drinks left over from the joyous occasion.

He’d picked the perfect spot to do it. Where things had decisively changed between them during the turning point of the war all those years ago, where their team became tight-knit and complete, and even though the next day wasn’t granted to any of them, at that young age, he’d sworn to himself this is where he’d do it.

When Aang told Zuko that, how could Zuko deny his request? _He was going to propose to Katara._ And he wanted to do it at the royal estate on Ember Island.

Six years. He’d waited for six years to see if Katara would ever change her mind, if she’d wake up from her girlish dreamscape and see what the current trajectory of her life had in store. But after spending her childhood playing the roles of sister, mother, and backbone of an unlikely team of children burdened with an impossible task, she deserved to live in her picturesque fantasy for as long as she wanted to. Zuko wouldn’t be the one to rob her of that.

Long ago, Iroh told him that water is the element of change. The old man’s words gave him a private hope to cling to; that she’d change, and her mind would change, and she’d float right back to where she’d almost been. How was anyone supposed to know she’d stay by Aang’s side for _six years_? 

From that kiss on the balcony, Zuko should have known. It should have been the first sign, but it wasn’t. For that reason, Zuko felt justified in his ridiculous bouts of bitterness. Before Zuko arrived, Aang had previously had months to act on his childish crush on Katara. Apparently he hadn’t made any serious moves until after Zuko showed up. 

Couldn’t his own feelings be called a childish crush, too? The remnants of dizzying emotions felt by a sixteen-year-old prince, clung to by a twenty-two-year-old regent? 

_No_ , he thought, _it was always more_. She’d been the first of the group to trust him, she made him work for her forgiveness when he betrayed that trust, and he thought he only respected her for that at the time. But it was always more.

The deciding moment wasn’t when he leapt in front of the lightning. It was in the moments after, when her hands worked over his sparking chest while tears freely flowed from her eyes. In his delirium he'd seen his whole life — no, the whole world — in her eyes, including a future together, one where they’d never stop having each other’s backs.

It was still there when he woke up in his bedroom almost a full day later and the first thing he opened his eyes to was her sitting in a chair at his bedside. Katara was sound asleep, wild curls out of place, and like a fool Zuko tried to say the tightness in his chest was residual pain from the injury. _It was always more_.

When she roused she doted on him, tenderly caring for his wounds and catching him up on the events he’d slept through, which happened to be the immediate aftermath of the war. When she ran out of things to say, they delved into emotionally dangerous territory, but who could blame them? The last thing he remembered was coming in and out of consciousness while staring at the promise of a better world in her eyes. 

In the borrowed time they had before anyone else learned of his awakening, they cycled between thanking each other and asking why they were being thanked; they’d each only done what they knew they had to do.

She asked with a steadier voice than he could have ever managed. Her grip on his hand tightened, not uncomfortably, but desperately, as if she’d lose him again if she let go. “Why did you have to do it?” 

He couldn’t say why out loud, but he could stroke his thumb over the back of her hand when he saw the tears well up in her eyes again, so he did. 

It took so much energy, but he was able to ask a question of his own. “Why did you?”

Katara didn’t say why out loud, but she pressed his hand to her lips, not in a kiss, but in an equally caring gesture, as if his hand was the only thing stopping the words from escaping. _I loved you more than I feared her._

But of course he’d gotten swept up in the aftermath of the war; he had a coronation to prepare for, a country to rebuild, amends to make with the entire rest of the world, and somehow Mai wasn’t in prison, she was right by his side. It felt familiar, so he clung to her. Zuko realized too late that “familiar” didn’t mean “right.” 

Now Katara was going to get engaged. In his family home, no less. It felt like the spirits were playing a humorless joke at his expense and all he could do was laugh sadly. Surely it was penance for years of misguided misdeeds.

Aang had already shown everyone except Katara the necklace a million times — the kid was _so excited_ and she was _going to be so surprised_ and Sokka was _so happy for them_ and Toph was _so relieved it was finally happening so Aang would shut up about it_. And Zuko?

He’d done all he could from a respectful distance. Every time he got a sliver of hope that maybe she still felt the same way, it was yanked away. When Aang needed to travel and couldn’t bring her for whatever reason, he’d drop Katara off at the Fire Nation to assist their dear friend the Fire Lord in rebuilding the broken country. 

Many nights, under the black sky around the turtleduck pond, he’d been so close to spilling his heart. But while he was terrified of scaring, or angering, or offending her, he was mostly afraid of losing her. When he finally decided he would confess, just before he let the words slip out, the shadow of a sky bison casted over the palace gardens, and she was gone again. He felt eternally and helplessly sixteen, chasing after a goal he’d never achieve. 

Somehow, this form of exile was more miserable than his banishment had been. 

In the back of his mind, he recalled a play he saw as a child. It featured two lovers, kept apart by a feud between their families, and they died at the end of the play but at least they died _together_. Zuko was never fond of that play, specifically because of its disappointing ending, and he talked about it for the longest time. Azula had rolled her eyes and told him to “stop whining, dum-dum, they were stupid and they died.” Uncle had spouted off some riddle that Zuko didn’t understand about fate and multiple lifetimes. 

Now, he thought he understood. It didn’t hurt any less.

He kept coming back to that balcony kiss. He hadn’t been meant to see it; no one was. But he’d noticed Katara was missing from the small party, and he wanted to pick up where they left off by the turtleduck pond. He poured her another cup of tea and walked around looking for her, and there he found her, in the Avatar’s arms. All of those years spent hunting for the Avatar, and the one time he accidentally stumbled upon him, he wished he hadn’t. 

Surely the spirits laughed at him.

Zuko tore his eyes from the sea and turned away from the railing. “Let’s go celebrate.”

***

Katara wasn’t stupid. Even as Aang offered her a gorgeously carved necklace, offered her a life together while surrounded by all of their loved ones, she saw how Zuko had situated himself at the edge of the room. She saw how the carefully-placed smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

She felt guilty wondering if he was thinking about if it were him instead.

She’d also felt infinitely guilty when she’d imagined the same thing on and off for _six years_. Every letter addressed to her that was sealed with the imperial flame sent a thrill through her body. 

_The turtleducks miss you almost as much as I do. I could use some help from the one I trust most. No one would object to your visit._

If no one from the palace staff or the high court of the Fire Nation was objecting to Katara’s proposed visitations, it was because Zuko put an end to the complaints before they began. He'd probably fought them all off, saying things about making peace and preserving friendship and undoubtedly singing her praises. Six years later he still jumped to her defenses, just as he’d jumped in front of the lightning meant for her. 

He’d nearly died for her. She knew he’d do it again in a heartbeat, and it terrified her.

That was why she could never answer his question out loud. She was so scared of crossing that bridge with him, because if he didn't feel the same way, she would forever lose one of the most meaningful people in her life. She’d already almost lost him once. She couldn’t bear the thought of it happening again. How does one lose someone who means so much to them, who willingly sacrificed themselves to give them a _chance_ at survival?

Where had she gone wrong?

She knew the answer; by assuming he hadn’t felt their connection as strongly as she did after she saw him with Mai. She hadn’t been meant to see that moment; no one was. But she’d just wanted to clarify a few things from their bedside discussion, the one where they’d been on the verge of revealing exactly how deep their loyalty to one another ran, and she needed to check in for medical reasons too. She approached his open entrance to his bedroom on the eastern side and reached up to knock on the frame with a hand that was shaking for some reason, and there he was, holding Mai close with his good arm.

That was her unspoken cue to leave, so she did, right out of the same side door she’d barely entered. 

She did all she could from a respectful distance. He never seemed to notice the subtle signs she displayed, so she left it at that. Yet every time she was left alone for months while Aang traveled to remote locations of the world, her mind wandered.

They never labeled their relationship because Aang was too free-spirited for that, but there was that silent understanding throughout the world that she was “the Avatar’s girl.” Zuko and Mai were on-and-off again and again, and in those off-again moments, Katara considered closing the fragile gap she and Zuko never agreed to maintain but did anyway.

Closing the gap also terrified her. Zuko wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and though he got better at sharing his feelings over time, not once did he utter a word hinting that he thought of her in that way. In kind, Katara didn’t either.

That didn’t stop them from comforting every nightmare no matter the hour, or immediately responding to every penned letter, or from lingering in their hugs just a tad too long. 

Zuko made her feel invincible. She’d never been afraid to speak her mind, but now she also had the world’s most powerful monarch soaking in her every suggestion, and that made her as close to royalty as she’d ever be. Katara was the queen of the revolution and the reformation, and Zuko placed the crown on her head day after day, making royal advisors bend the knee with every reminder of who she was. 

None of that mattered now that she was trading her crown for an ivory necklace.

She remembered one of Gran-Gran’s stories about the ancient spirits: how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night just to watch her come to life. Sometimes they met in the sky over the sea, bidding each other a bittersweet hello before parting ways. And sometimes, for the briefest of moments, they held each other close in a total eclipse. But their love was blinding to humans, so they agreed to only meet in that exquisite display of affection once every several decades. Katara wept in nine-year-old anguish at that story, not understanding why the spirits couldn’t just be together. Sokka rolled his eyes and ran off to go play with some of the other boys, grateful for the story to finally be over.

Now, she thought she understood. It didn’t hurt any less.

Katara accepted Aang's necklace with tears in her eyes, crying with joy at his wholesome love for her, crying in twenty-year-old anguish at the thought of what could have been.

Her sun dipped below the horizon, softly whispering his goodbye from across the room. Someone had handed him another glass of fire whiskey, and when their eyes met while she embraced Aang, he raised it in a silent toast. Katara buried her glassy eyes in Aang’s cloak.

It was done.

Days later, when she climbed onto Appa with her fiancé and they rode off into the sky, she didn’t tear her eyes away from the island until she couldn’t see his crown glittering in the sunlight anymore. 

They still had their individual beliefs and unspoken hopes which they’d never let go of. Maybe they would meet in the next life and have a chance to begin again. Maybe decades from now they’d feel true bliss in an eclipse between the sky and the sea. 

For now, for the sake of happiness and stability, they remained in exile.


End file.
